


Distractions

by jennandblitz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Canon Compliant, First War with Voldemort, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Sexual Content, Silly, Smut, aka Remus and Sirius are horny mutts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 05:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandblitz/pseuds/jennandblitz
Summary: Duelling Club was so much easier...





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Purplechimera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplechimera/gifts).



> Inspired entirely by a conversation purplechimera and I had about getting frustrated when characters didn't listen to us. It's completely ridiculous but I kind of adore it.

Sirius has always loved watching Remus duel.

In Duelling Club at school the stakes weren’t so high. If he got distracted by the way Remus looked when he was concentrating, all moon-bright with fluid grace, eyes alight with determination, the corner of his lip drawn up under one sharp canine, then the worst he would get was his wand flying out of his hand, or perhaps, if he were paired with Lily, a particularly vicious Jelly-Legs Jinx. So, really, he was free to stare at Remus all he liked in Duelling Club - a Jelly-Legs was worth the trouble to ogle his boyfriend in all of his wolfish splendour, like the pack-leader he was.

_But you’re not in Hogwarts now, Sirius._

Now, however, the stakes are a little higher. He leaps to the side as the three Death Eaters land in the alley behind the Hog’s Head with a deafening crack and feels a swath of relief that Remus already has his wand at the ready, firing off a Shield Charm to give them a moment to think.

Remus looks glorious, mouth set in a hard line, the jut of the tendon in his neck as he flings a curse out from the tip of his wand. The shape of his arm, the sturdiness of his stance, the swell of the muscles in his butt. Oh, Moony’s butt - hidden beneath those ugly jeans but Sirius knew what it looked like, could easily imagine him naked, sprawled out on their sheets like he had been this morni-

 _Sirius, Stupefy on your left from Lucius Malfoy_.

Oh right, they’re fighting for their lives, he doesn’t have time to ogle Moony’s butt, as much as it would be a beautiful thing to see right before he dies. Sirius remembers an old folk belief he read about once, that the last thing one sees is seared into their eyes, to be seen by whoever gazes into their death mask. It would be better then, he thinks, to die whilst fucking Moony. For the sight of Remus, maybe fresh after duelling, the veins in his arms standing out, his muscles taut with adrenaline but his face so soft with affection for Sirius as he works him open with reverent kisses and fingers-

_Sirius._

Oh yeah, he grins and fires off another curse towards Malfoy. It’s a shame really, having spent most of his school years with these Eaters, he recognises most of them easily. It’s Malfoy with the blonde hair, Mulciber with the hunch in his shoulders, Rosier with the predilection for the Cruciatus Curse, a streak of reddish light from his wand. Sirius spares a glance to Remus, his canine senses flaring out for his partner. He understands at once why Dumbledore refuses to let romantic partners become partners in the field, because Sirius is definitely distracted.

But Remus is wonderful, grinning wolfishly over at Sirius - the moon only in a few days and Remus is all teeth and growls, both in and out of the bedroom. His energy seems too big for his body, overflowing at the edges and it’s never more obvious than when he accosts Sirius by the doorway as soon as he walks into the flat to kiss him soundly, all teeth and growls, and Sirius tips his chin back to submit to the wolf. Sirius can see the tension in his body even now from across the alleyway, firing another Shield Charm in Sirius’ direction as Mulciber sends a Killing Curse his way. Sirius feels a swell of affection, the wolf under Remus’ skin making him bristle and howl with all the protectiveness of an alpha over it’s pack.

_Sirius, curse incoming at 11 o’clock._

Even from across the alleyway, Sirius can smell Remus. It’s Padfoot, he’s sure, who can pick up on Remus’ scent, the books, the tea, the ink, the soft hissing undercurrent of healing spells and something else that speaks to Sirius’ insides, the headiness of _sex_ and _love_ and he’s sure neither of them had time to shower after this afternoon’s impromptu romp in front of the fireplace. He remembers Remus smiling, glittering and dangerous above him, his fine features and his hot mossy-green gaze, the yellowness of the wolf simmering at the edges.

Godric, he looks glorious like that, almost feral, bared in a way only Sirius sees when they’re in bed together, or on the floor, or against the wall, or- or, haven’t they fucked in this alleyway too? Perhaps in Seventh Year, when they were exploring everything with the recklessness of teenagers without the weight of war on their shoulders and they could think of nothing but sex. … Sure, Sirius still has a one track mind nowadays too, like how duelling always makes Sirius woozy for Remus, perhaps it’s the way he holds himself, the way the power seems to flow through him for all to see-

_Sirius, for Merlin’s sake, we have a plot to get through here. We’re in the middle of a duel, the Killing Curse has shot past you about seven times and all you can think about is Remus? Perhaps he has better focus, we might be able to cover some ground…_

 

There are few things Remus loves about being a werewolf, and his heightened senses and reflexes are the beginning, middle and end of that list. But they do mean that even whilst duelling, Remus has the wherewithal to keep track of Sirius between the spells too. Because the wolf is simmering under his collar and it is more protective of Padfoot than Remus is of Sirius, and that says something because Remus would _die_ for Sirius.

Especially when he looks like that, roaring with laughter in the face of danger, the elegant planes of his face glinting under the lamplight, firing off curses with wild abandon. Sirius leaps out of the way of one spell and fires another in return. Remus glances around to try and find somewhere to have a moment's respite but all he can see is Sirius, hair tousled around his shoulders, all leather and boots and haughty disdain, slender fingers tight around his wand.

Sirius’ fingers… Oh, he loves every part of Sirius but his fingers hold a special place in Remus’ heart. Everything Sirius does is refined and elegant, and it comes out in his fingers, the way he holds things, touches things with reverence, the way his fingers trace the planes of Remus’ body as if he is the most precious thing he has ever seen.

The way Sirius’ fingers find a way to take him apart, without fail, every time. Fingers gripping his cock tightly, stroking over him in expert motions, fingers against his tongue, fingers easing inside him, working him open to welcome the rest of Sirius into his body. Merlin, he always looks so beautiful when he is concentrating, like now, brow furrowing slightly, still with a grin on his lips, or when he’s making sure Remus is wet and hot and open beneath-

_Remus._

Oh right, fighting the Death Eaters. He fires off a few more hexes without even thinking, the wolf's senses instead train on Sirius across the alleyway again, moving forward and hemming Mulciber - he can tell by the scent - in by one of the bins. Sirius has always been forward, always been headstrong and has always ran into things without even thinking. Even without James - they were in hiding right now - Sirius was reckless and wild and utterly beautiful. He remembers a similar face-off from Seventh Year, Mulciber against Sirius, Remus still at his shoulder because they were never apart in Seventh Year, still discovering all the wonderful ways that a relationship could bloom between them and so damn intertwined all they could see was each other.

Remus doesn’t even remember how the last fight between Mulciber and Sirius ended, but he remembers Sirius’ radiance, the way he shone through the halls of Hogwarts like their crown prince and Remus had no choice but to accost him in the nearest broom cupboard as soon as McGonagall had released them from a barrage of frighteningly witty put-downs. He remembers rutting against Sirius in the cupboard, hands clenching desperately in his hair, kissing Sirius as if he were trying to capture some of that radiance, drink it in to own it and embody it, a piece of something so Sirius that he could keep forever. Sirius looks the same now, radiant and star-bright, overflowing with confidence and charisma and adrenaline and Remus wants to push him against the wall and rut like teen-

_Remus. Rosier with a Cruciatus Curse behind you._

Oh Merlin, Remus dodges out of the way and ducks behind a crate. In a small gap between curses, Remus looks over to Sirius to summon up a happy memory. One comes readily - this afternoon in front of the fire.

A moment of the wolf brewing to the surface, Sirius under him, throat bared in submission, making soft whimpers in the back of his throat as Remus brings him to the edge again and again before they finally fuck. Fingers crook to find his prostate, mouth bruising all over his neck to the soundtrack of Sirius begging softly, still managing to sound like he was the one in control - fuck, Moony, Moony, c’mon, I want you, I want you inside me, I want your fucking cock, Moony, give me your cock, fucking harder, deeper, faster, c’mon, c’mon - until Remus rolls him onto his stomach.

Remus fucks him into the floorboards with one hand on his hips and the other lodged in swaths of raven hair to the sounds of Sirius yelping with every breath. He is delicious and warm and pushing back onto Remus’ cock with every snapping thrust of his hips, heedless of the bruises that will appear on his knees. Remus answers every keen with a sna-

_Remus. You called on those happy memories to summon a Patronus, didn’t you? To call Dumbledore, to send for help - not just reminisce about… things. Send that off and we’re going back to Sirius, to get this bloody plot moving._

 

Sirius barks out another laugh and fires a Jelly-Legs Jinx at Rosier, grinning assuredly when he stumbles on the way towards Remus. Oh Remus, who sends off a Patronus - probably to Dumbledore, knowing Remus probably to some filthy memory and Sirius is still sore from earlier in the day, the bruises on his neck probably still blooming. Rosier falls unconscious from another spell, tumbling with a clatter against some bins and crates and Sirius hops back out of the way of a retaliation curse from Malfoy.

“Incarcerous,” he mutters off-handedly to Rosier’s unconscious form, to keep him in his place until backup arrives, and then the memory of the last Incarcerous he casts sprouts to the forefront of his mind.

Remus’ arms strain under the tension of the ropes and his impending orgasm, the tendons of his forearms, the pink flush over his chest as Sirius mouths along the line of his hip. He loses track of how long they’ve been there, how many bruises he has bitten into Remus’ flesh, how many times his fingers and tongue have worked Remus over and over and over. Sirius grins into his fluttering abdomen and shifts to swirl the flat of his tongue over Remus’ flushed cock. His thighs are quivering under the tension of his body pulled taut by Sirius and the ropes. Sirius, Pads, Padf- Padfoot, oh, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck, fu-

_Sirius._

 

Remus fires off a parting curse as Lucius Malfoy turns and the crack of Disapparition flutters through the air. Remus can smell the magic of it lingering, Rosier bound and unconscious at the other end of the alley, but he can also smell Sirius, the sweat, the adrenaline, the aftershave, the scent of Sirius that he _knows_ and has known in his blood since he was 11. He crosses over to Sirius and pushes him against the wall to kiss him soundly on the mouth. It’s all teeth and growls and Sirius clings to his shoulders, wand still in one hand, a thigh sliding between Remus’ knees. Merlin, fuck, it has only been a few hours but he could go again, here in the alley, Sirius’ legs around his waist, Remus’ mouth on his pulse.

“Ahem.”

Remus licks into Sirius’ waiting mouth, prises it open with kisses to taste of cigarettes and firewhiskey and smoke and sex, pressing closer. Sirius grinds back against him, one hand tangled in his hair to tug him closer still. Earlier today by the fire seems too far away and Remus is ravenous after the display of Sirius at his finest, firing curses and insults with punishing accuracy.

_Remus, that’s Dumbledore at the end of the alley. You called for him, didn’t you? Put Sirius down for five minutes, will you? There is an unconscious Death Eater at your feet…_

 

“Can we check in tomorrow? That was a rough fight…”

Sirius’ voice sounds far away even to his own ears. They’re in the Hogs Head now and Sirius is thrumming with the desire for Remus, started by the sight of him duelling and stoked by a heated kiss Dumbledore had the audacity to interrupt. He doesn’t want to stay for a debriefing, he wants to Floo home and stumble onto the floorboards in front of the hearth in a wonderful rendition of this afternoon.

Or maybe they would stumble into the bathroom, into the shower to wash off the remnants of sweat and Dark magic fluttering around them. Sirius could turn Remus against the tiles and sink to his knees, press a kiss to his tailbone and wind his tongue down the path of his cheeks, palm lovingly over the soft line where his gorgeous arse meets his thigh, swipe his tongue over the pucker of his-

_Sirius! You asked a question and didn’t even pay attention to the answer. Dumbledore says yes, you can both leave and see him tomorrow._

 

Remus doesn’t even listen to Dumbledore talking. He’s distantly aware they were originally on their way to the Hog’s Head to pass him information anyway, but now all he can think about is Sirius. He can smell the desire rolling off him in waves. He’s seconds away from leaning over to kiss him, bite his lush bottom lip, palm his erection through those obscenely tight jeans-

 

Sirius grabs Remus’ hand under the table as they parse out goodbyes to Dumbledore, words akin to excuses, begging off, the moon is so soon, but really Sirius just wants Remus naked, desperate, begging, wanting -

 

It’s criminal, how attractive Sirius is, how close he’s holding Remus’ hand to his crotch, his fingers itching to curl around the denim-clad bulge there to hear Sirius moan-

 

Remus holding onto the side of the bathtub for grip as Sirius’ tongue -

 

Sirius’ cock, jutting proudly from the dark curls -

 

_Oh Morgana, help me. This is an important discussion! Neither of you are paying any attention at all! It’s absurd, how are we meant to get anything done with you two randy mutts - We’re going to Aberforth, he’s an objective observer in this, perhaps he’ll be able to tell us something about this important, well thought-out, imperative part of the plot!_

 

That goat -

 

_A scream of frustration echoes into the existential void. It seems to shudder through the pub in a moment of stillness._

 

_Okay, fine. If that’s what you want._

 

Sirius and Remus stumble into their flat in a plume of greenish flame, tug at each other’s clothes and immediately tumble into a heated embrace, their minds finally free of distractions.

  



End file.
